3. Debbie Do

 

3 Deep Conference

When I arrived home that evening all was quiet. Which was fine with me. The weekend had been invigorating, and the show Debbie had provided for me that evening certainly had my energies flowing. Perhaps more energies than I wanted considering my limited options for utilizing them right now. So I poured myself a cocktail and rested a bit before cleaning up the apartment from the carnage left by the romping weekend spent with Rene. All in all life was good. As I sipped the Makers Mark I was considering just what little Debbie’s story was. Either she was the consummate tease or she had an agenda. Her being an intelligent woman the coin could fall either way on that bit of speculation.

 

I cleaned up and by the time I was finished it was only ten pm. The drink and the movement had me fully awake as did the replay in my mind of the scene Debbie performed for me on my office couch. I figured a phone call to Debbie wouldn’t be totally out of order. After all that’s what answering machines are for. She could easily ignore the call. But I could make it clear she had gotten my attention.

 

The phone seemed to ring endlessly and just before I hung up Debbie picked up and said breathlessly, “So are you still sitting there with your pecker in your hand?”

 

“How did you know it was me?”

 

“I knew.” she exhaled roughly.

 

“Well. No. But I am seriously considering putting it back there.” I replied. “Want to come out for a drink?”

 

“I’m busy right now. How about after work tomorrow.” she said amidst some indistinct rustling. “I’ve got to go. Tomorrow.” she gasped and hung up.

 

Hmmm. Oh well. Time to sleep.

 

The next day at work was rather quiet. The clients came in and approved the final cut so the rest of the day was just paperwork and waiting for approval. I saw little of Debbie that day except for a brief visit. I was taking a last look at the cut before turning it over to the assistant to start preliminary prep for the finish. Around lunchtime Debbie came in and stood behind me. While I was watching the cut Debbie moved closer and leaned forward placing those spectacular breasts on the back of my neck. She then reached down and ran her hand up the inside of my thigh giving the knob of my cock a brush with her fingers while whispering, “So are we having that drink tonight.” As she did that I noticed Pam walk by and see us. Pam was about Debbie’s height, light blond curly hair that bobbed as she walked. She had nice sized breasts, but no match for Debbie’s rack. She caught a glimpse of Debbie pressing her boobs against my neck but just proceeded on her way with no reaction. Debbie walked out and said, “After work then.”

 

At the end of the day I called Debbie’s office line and set the place for our after work liaison. It was not our usual company watering hole and Debbie said, “Good, I’ve got to finish up here. I’ll be there about six thirty.”

 

I was done at six so headed over to stake out a table. It was a small place that stayed open til four A.M. It was not a usual stop for our crowd until after two A.M., which would mean Debbie and I could keep this meeting private for now. When Debbie arrived we chatted a bit about the day and then she asked with a totally straight face, “So why did you call me last night?”

 

“Well I had been thinking about you after your little exhibition yesterday. Why do you think I called you?”

 

“Oh that.” she said and ran her tongue along the rim of her Martini glass. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes. “Did you enjoy that?” she quipped.

 

“It got my attention, that is for sure.”

 

“Good, and you calling me was a good start. So what did you want?”

 

“Well, I was thinking I could come over and lend a hand from where you left off in my office,” I said feeling encouraged.

 

“Aren’t you the chivalrous gentleman.” she remarked in her noncommittal way. ”I suppose you want to have a few cocktails here and then head back to the office and fuck my brains out on the conference table.”

 

“That’s a thought.” I said slyly through my best Cheshire cat grin.

 

“Well your not doing me like Cheryl on that conference room table. Ever.” Debbie stated flatly.

 

I choked a bit on my drink and looked into Debbie’s now defiant brown eyes. She continued, “It was just a few weeks after I started there. I was struggling to keep up with the workload and working late. Cheryl told me she had something to take care of and would be in the conference room. I had a question and went up to find her. I walked in to see her long legs sticking up in the air and you pounding into her while she was splayed out on the table. I admit I was taken a back, but I couldn’t turn away as I watched your skinny little ass bouncing on that Amazon bitch. She must of fucked everyone of you editor boys, and made no secret about it amongst us women. Even me, and I was brand new. But that’s when I saw it. You pulled way up an out of her big nasty pussy and I was transfixed as I saw that enormous knob on your cock split her wide as you pulled it up and out and then rammed it home again. I almost came right there watching that knob split her wide. I got out quietly, not that either one of you would have noticed, but I have thought of the size of that monster head on your dick ever since.”

 

Cheryl was the ultimate wild woman ride. She was close to six feet tall, long legs that spread out to a rump that was always sheathed in jeans. Cheryl knew the luscious visual effect those jeans gave that ass of hers. Her waist and tummy were slim with just a hint of muffin top above those ever present jeans. Her shoulders broadened out to support the massive tits she sported. They were big or bigger than Debbie’s, but because of Cheryl’s size they were not as obvious as little Debbie’s. Cheryl always seemed to be wearing blouses that buttoned down the front. I always figured it was her way of controlling the amount of cleavage shown to match her mood. But you didn’t need cleavage to visualize the awe inspiring puppies hidden in her blouse. She also wore her hair long. It hung down to the top of her ass stopping just short of hiding the open invitation of her glorious behind.

 

No one came out unscathed from a dalliance with Cheryl. She was a hickey giving, scratch manufacturing machine during her tempestuous fucking embrace. I knew exactly the time Debbie was talking about because aside from having the goal of sucking or fucking every man in the editing house, she also wanted to be had in every suite and office in the place. She was working her way up to the owner and I was apparently the next in line.

 

I had been screening dailies in the conference room with clients and they had just packed up and left. The assistant had packed up the footage and was gone as well. I was just finishing my notes to leave for the assistant to organizing into select rolls in the morning. I looked up and saw Cheryl by the door. She strolled in and started unbuttoning her blouse. I remember asking her if everyone had left and she simply said, ”Yep.” She apparently lied. Go figure.

 

As she slowly peeled her blouse off her shoulders and reached back to relieve herself of her brassiere she said, “I don’t think I have fucked you in this room yet.” I nodded in agreement. As she peeled her jeans off she made sure to turn around so I could view her butt and pussy as she bent down to work her jeans over her feet. While bent over she looked back at me and said, “Are you ready for this?” I took a deep breath and nodded.

 

“Well then get over here,” she said as she stood up and faced me in her full frontal splendor. As I walked across the room towards this statuesque dame I undid belt, button, and zipper of my trousers and let them fall. She slowly dropped to her knees while lowering her head to engulf me in her moist full lipped mouth. Her lips slipped over the head of my cock. She cupped my balls in her hand as I slid into her throat. Cheryl would twist her head from side to side with each deep swallow of the shaft sending her long hair flying from side to side with each lunge of her head. I grabbed handfuls of her long brown hair and held on for dear life as she began bobbing her head and furiously sucking my cock. Everything was furious with Cheryl. Once you got going with Cheryl there was no talking. Just grunting. She was not a screamer, nor a moaner. She growled, purred, and sometimes made sounds that were beyond description.

 

At this point I pulled her to her feet by the fists full of hair I had and began sucking on those enormous breasts while jamming three fingers into her soaking cunt. For such big tits her nipples were small, brown and taut. With Cheryl and me it was always a contest of who could fuck who into submission. I lifted her up by her snatch and slid her butt across the conference room table leaving a trail of her juices behind. I pounced on her and slid my dick between those voluptuous hooters as she pushed them together with both her hands to fully envelope me. As I violently pumped that valley I pushed a little to far and Cheryl quickly leaned her head forward and got her teeth over the prodigious knob at the end of my pecker and clamped down harder than I would have liked. She pulled her head back pulling my balls between those tits of hers. While clamping my balls between her boobs she began to give that enormous plum on the head of my cock the licking of a lifetime. She then raked my chest with her nails, pushed me back on the conference room table and mounted me like the Amazon cowgirl she was. The sight of her long hair flying and breasts flopping as she rode me up and down had me gasping and grunting. She would rise up clamping her cunt around me until almost releasing me from her pussy only to slam down on it hard with a deep grunt. Then she would swirl her hips grinding that dripping snatch on my balls only to rise up triumphantly again to the top of the knob with her snapping pussy grasping it vise like and wriggle her hips up there. I would feel her tense, then slam down again with tits bouncing in all directions. By the time I flipped Cheryl on her back I was oblivious to everything but being enveloped in her twat as he knockers spread out and rhythmically bounced with each of my downward thrusts. As I spurted my fiery load into her she writhed beneath me clamping her clutching cunt all around my throbbing pole.

I remember wondering if she would make her unemployed loser of a husband eat her tonight with the remnants of my come still oozing out of her. Office rumor had it that she would torment this guy after fucking one of us with tales of her office adventures. Eventually her sad sack husband found a job out of town and he and Cheryl moved on. I always wondered if she was using us all as a motivator to spur him on. Marriages are a funny thing. But Cheryl left her mark on more than a few here.

 

“Well you are never doing me in the office like that,” stated Debbie as she busted in on my reverie.

 

“I understand, but..”

 

Debbie cut me off.

 

“Yes I know I took a taste last Friday, but that was just something to get your attention. If you want more you can come visit me at my place. But always call first,” she warned as she leaned forward displaying that marvelous cleavage while running her hand up my thigh and tapping the tip of my cock.

 

“How about tonight,” I asked eagerly.

 

“Not tonight pumpkin, tomorrow.” she smiled suggestively and poured the last of her Martini down her throat. A bit dribbled down her chin to the top of her breast. I just stared at the shimmering drop that was just where I wanted to be. Debbie gently rubbed it off with more cupping of her breast than was necessary and said,”Ciao” as she left.

I went back to the office to collect my briefcase which I had left in hopes of returning with Debbie and packed up. Pam was still there and seemed surprised to see me and asked, “Need anything?”

 

I had a brief impure thought, but knowing Pam and Debbie were friends I saw no need in taking any chances when the Debbie Double D Booby prizes where so near to my grasp.

 

“I’m good,” I said.

 

“Ciao” said Pam and I watched her curly blondie blond hair flip and bounce as her generous keyster wiggled out the door.

Advertisements

Author: Pete Symes

Purveyor of paralogical compliance to verbally mediated reality, artisanal smut, with a pinch of full time flâneur tossed in to taste.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s